White War
by Daemonchan
Summary: *X-over Gundam Wing* Quatre finds a terrible secret of his father's that will link him inextricably to the lives of four assassins on Earth.
1. Ichi: I am Kritiker

White War

A Weiß Kreuz/GW Crossover

By Daemonchan

::Author's Notes::

This is to be the ultimate fanfiction for me. Gundam Wing and Weiß Kreuz are my passions in the anime world, as evidenced by my writing. I recieved wonderful feedback for this idea so I though I would try it out.

Also, the Weiß boys can speak English. Good English. Much better than my half-assed attempts at Japanese.

::Timeline::

I'm going to pretend that the Gundam and Weiß timelines were parallel. The fall of the Aste Triad occured at about the same time as the destruction of Libra and the end of the war with White Fang. The OVA's for either series have not occured. The Weiß boys are familiar with the war in space, but were busy with their own secret lives and thus are not as well informed as some.

::Warnings::

Mild shounen ai that may become full blown lemon, KenxDuo, Duo + ?? (now that would be telling!) non-con touching, violence, torture, drug abuse, swearing...you know, the usual.

Spoilers for the whole of GW, Weiß, and a little twisted knowledge of Ken's past from the Dramatic Collections. (Holy Children, I believe...)

::Caveat::

Remember that this is fiction and I have tried very hard to fit these two worlds together in the best possible way. Be patient and enjoy my efforts.

*~*~*~*

Ichi: I am Kritiker

§*§*§*§*§

The heavy door opened easily, swinging into the silent office on well cared for hinges. A sad form stood for a moment framed in the doorway, fighting with himself on whether or not he should enter.

Determination won out and the lithe blonde boy stepped into his father's office, swallowing against the rising tears. Everything was as it had been on the day his father died...no, had been killed for his pacifist ideals.

The day Quatre had gone mad...and changed the outcome of the war by building the Wing Zero.

A wave of regret caught Quatre in mid-step. Thousands of lives had been destroyed in his insanity. Yes, his mind had not been his own, but the guilt left was all too real. He vowed to do all in his power to make reparations.

But first, he had to sort through his father's personal affairs. The company itself had been mostly run by his many sisters; it would function perfectly without ever touching their father's personal files, but Quatre felt that it was something that needed to be done.

Gingerly, he lowered himself into the wing backed leather chair that his father had worn into a comfortable shape from his years at the desk. It had been his refuge after Quatre's mother had died, a place to hide from the beautiful boy who didn't even know that his mother had sacrificed herself to give Winner a son.

The Arabian stared at the mahogany desktop, his eyes resting on the flat monitor raised in the center. One command and his father's life would be at his fingertips. He felt like his was intruding for an instant before his lips whispered the code to start the computer.

"On."

The screen flared to life, revealing nothing but a long list of file names in acid green text. Quatre whispered the files names as he scrolled through the information. pages of numbers and names that made no sense. His father had made thousands of investments on Earth and the colonies. It would take years to figure everything out. He stopped suddenly, surprised by a name highlighted in red.

_Weiß._

_What the hell does that mean?_ He selected the file, surprised when it opened immediately. There was a text file first, dated just before his father's death. It meant that his father knew that Quatre would be the next to use his computer...that he knew that he would die for what he believed in.

_Quatre,_

_If you have accessed this file, then I have been killed by our enemies. I had hoped to continue this fight without involving you, but after seeing you...I now know that is impossible._

_I have taken the coward's road and I live in your brave shadow._

_Many years ago, before OZ had begun to take control, I learned of Aste. They hire assassins with Newtype abilities and plot to overthrow the Earth. OZ is part of their plan. Even if you and the Gundams win, the fight is far from over._

_An old friend, Shuuichi Takatori, asked me for help in helping to stop his brother, Reiji, from his evil plans to take over Tokyo. I refused for as long as I could, even knowing that innocents were dying because of my refusal to become involved._

_Then Aste stepped in and I could no longer remain inactive._

_Included in this file are the details behind my effort to stop the spread of Aste on Earth. They are four boys known as Weiß. They can help you. Tell them you are Kritiker. They will understand._

_Shuuichi is gone. Reiji was stopped. But Aste lives on. Shuuichi found evidence of their activities before his death. The Triad of Aste must be destroyed. Only Weiß can carry on the fight. The fight that is now yours._

_This is my coward's way. I sent these four innocents into battle because I knew they would. Much like the Gundam pilots, they have given much for many. This is the last I would ask of them. Of you._

_May Allah protect you and keep you safe. I love you._

Quatre froze, heart thudding painfully in his chest. His father had paid for assassins on Earth? Kritiker? Is this why he was killed?

For an insane instant, Quatre thought of deleting the file, of trying to forget everything he had just read. And knew that he couldn't.

He scrolled through the rest of the files, his blue eyes sad as he finished reading the background of the fourth and final assassin. _They are just like us. Children fighting something they can't hope to win._

Aya Fujimiya. Ken Hidaka. Youji Kudou. Omi Tsukiyono. Weiß.

He stood quickly, leaving the screen glowing behind him. His mind was alread on what his father's final request had been and how he was to go about fulfilling a dead man's wish.

::owari ichi:: 


	2. Ni: Past & Present

White War  
Ni: Past and Present

§*§*§*§*§

Quatre stared at the front of the flower shop, wringing the small piece of paper on which he had written the names of the four boys within and the word his father had given him.

_Kritiker._

The past week had been a tortuous undertaking for the former pilot. One by one, all illusions he had ever held about his father had crumbled beneath the mounting evidence that he had used the incredible fortune of Winner Enterprises to fund a secret war...all the while driving Quatre from him in an effort to prevent another war from taking the life of his only son.

It had taken him days of tracking, discovering that his father had hidden his tracks under dummy funds and companies that were nearly impossible to find. Not only did the Winner family own sizable areas of the colonies, they owned a good bit of the Earth as well, funneling the vast funds into recycling plants to try and restore the war torn planet. Any profit from the efforts was immediately placed in a blind fund, accessible only by the head of Winner Enterprises...and Takatori Shuuichi in Tokyo.

Further search of his father's files had revealed names associated with the dead Shuuichi Takatori. Once the chief of police, he had hand selected the various groups of assassins, from the non-lethal Crashers, to the deadly Weiß. Quatre's heart had broken again and again as he read the mission reports sent by Shuuichi.

The youngest was a mere boy, barely the same age as the Gundam pilots. The leader's sister had nearly been murdered by Takatori Reiji and Kritiker had been using her care to blackmail the boy into remaining in the group. Another was disgraced and had no where left to turn. The last and oldest...he remained a mystery to the Arabian as to why he had joined Weiß. The reports touched on a tragic past...

Quatre had been about to give up on finding the means to contact Kritiker when he hacked into the only secured file left by his father. A list of real and code names had appeared on his screen, with contacts included. Ranks had not been denoted and so this lead to phone calls to about 10 very surprised Kritiker agents before he discovered the identity of the agent who had been running the show since Shuuichi's death. 

The woman named herself Birman, and was immediately helpful once Quatre had confirmed his identity. She updated Quatre's Kritiker files, including the recent battle against the group Schwarz and Weiß's miraculous recovery from a near watery grave. The Arabian noted with some surprise that the destruction of the temple had occured close to Heero's obliteration of the remains of the falling Libra. The new information also included the whereabouts of the assassin group. They were living in Tokyo, employed by Kritiker, though on standby status. 

As he finished the call, he asked her to not reveal anything to the group, Weiß. He would handle them personally, going to their home in Tokyo.

That left one call to make.

Former Gundam pilot and infamous God of Death, Duo Maxwell, stood silently behind him, leaning nonchalantly against a lamppost. He was inconspicuous in a black shirt and well worn jeans, dark chestnut braid trimmed to a functional length in the middle of his back. After the fall of Libra, Duo felt that it was time to move on from his past and embrace whatever future was in store. His priestly garb was discarded with few tears.

He had already been on Earth, determined to enjoy the fresh air while he still could, when Quatre called to tell him of the information he had received. It had been a small matter to get to Tokyo.

He was intrigued by his friend's story. While they were fighting to save the Earth from mankind, another war had been waged against something more insidious, something that had grown in the darkest corners of the human soul.

He didn't doubt the reports about the group Aste or their lackeys, Schwarz. He had seen Quatre's own powers in action far too often, usually when saving his or the other pilots' lives, to dismiss the esper powers of others. He had been impressed by accounts of the four assassins facing the combined strengths of a telepath, telekinetic, berserker, and clairvoyant and still coming out on top of the odds. Mainly, still alive to tell the story.

Plus, his curiosity always got the better of him.

Duo smiled as Quatre glanced at the wrung paper in his hand for the hundredth time, looking up at the building in trepidation. The flower shop was a simple one, with two floors, and a basement. The first floor consisted mostly of the store, the strangely named Koneko No Sumu Ie, and a kitchen and store rooms, with bedrooms on the second for the group of boys who ran the shop to use. Duo had taken the precaution of obtaining the blue prints of the building, and a few of the surrounding structures so they could have an escape route should things with Weiß go south.

Quatre had chosen a weekend when no one would be at the shop but Weiß. He had also obtained intelligence reports earlier that day to confirm that all four boys were actually in the building.

"Are you gonna go in or what?"

The question startled Quatre from his nervous daze. He smiled gently, and walked to the glass door. A new metal gate had been drawn and he reached between the bars to knock.

He glanced at Duo, who urged him to knock again. His knuckles had only grazed the glass when he heard a dead bolt snap from its home. He stepped back in shock as the door opened a crack, one emerald eye peering at him warily, and just a bit hazily.

"Nan desu ka?"

The rude question caught Quatre by surprise. "Um...Quatre Winner...ah...desu. Eh...Eigo..."

"Hai. I speak English." The door did not open any further. The eye had gone from barely awake to intensely alert, giving Quatre the impression that the first greeting had merely been an act and that everyone in the building was well aware of his and Duo's presence.

He knew that what he had to say could not be said on the street. With all the sincerity he could muster, Quatre said, "I must speak with Fujimiya Ran."

It seemed that he could not have said a better phrase to get the boy's attention. The door opened swiftly and the gate was pulled aside. Quatre found himself face to face with the oldest member of the assassin group, Kudou Youji. The lanky blonde was wearing a half shirt that exposed a generous amount of his navel and tight pants that fit low on his thin hips. As soon as Quatre stepped across the threshold, he put a cigarette to his lips and took a long drag.

"Irrasshaimase, Winner-san. Come with me."

Quatre had only a moment to wonder about leaving Duo behind when Youji shut the door firmly, once again throwing the bolt and stalked off into the back of the shop.

They entered a small storage space turned living room, sparsely furnished with furniture that had seen better days. A small couch that seemed on its last legs was occupied by two other members of the foursome, and Youji himself fell into a torn armchair, long legs immediately placed on the rickety table in front of him.

Quatre was struck by the utter...normalcy of the room. If he had walked into their lives on any day but today, he would have never even surmised the dark life they led. He laughed to himself. No one would have guessed that the charming young Arabian heir was once a wanted Gundam pilot himself either.

Appearances were certainly dangerous here.

Quatre could feel the danger in the room. As normal as these boys seemed, he knew that each of them was fully capable of killing him if he posed a threat to their hard won secrecy. Their files included an outline of their skills and training, each bio frighteningly similar to that of each of the five Gundam boys.

The boy with the scarlet hair spoke first, his voice deep and cool, faintly reminiscent of Heero. His English was strong and slightly accented. "Who are you?"

Quatre had rehearsed what he would say a hundred times since leaving L4 and meeting Duo in Tokyo. Now his words failed him. "I am...Quatre Rerbarba Winner."

The silence was tangible. The sand haired boy stared in shock, sitting forward with his arms on his knees. "As in...the Gundam pilot?"

"H...hai."

The boy stood and walked over to a very surprised Quatre. "Boku wa Tsukiyono Omi. Yoroshiku, Winner-san. It is an honor to meet you."

Quatre smiled warmly and bowed politely. Omi turned to his friends, his voice slightly chiding. "Minna, this boy is a hero."

"Oh, I'm no hero, Tsukiyono-san..."

Again, Quatre was taken aback by the friendliness of the youngest assassin. "Please, call me Omi."

"Quatre."

"Kudou Youji." The blonde did not take his eyes off Quatre, as if trying to determine the veracity of Omi's claim merely by looking. "Why don't we find out why he's here before we invite him to move in, ne, Omittchi?"

The boy's hand went to the back of his head. "Hai, Youji-kun. I'm just surprised is all. I mean, the Gundams saved the entire planet and they were younger than me." He turned and took his place next to the boy who had spoken first. "Introduce yourself, Aya-kun!"

The boy called Aya fixed Quatre with a penetrating violet gaze. "I have the feeling that he already knew of us before he stepped foot in this room."

Youji nodded slightly. "He asked for Fujimiya _Ran_." He emphasized the first name in such a way as to make Quatre feel that he was missing something.

The Arabian suddenly wished he could sit down so he wouldn't feel so on display. All three boys were watching him intently, waiting for his next move.

"What I have to say may sound strange, but I ask that you hear me out." He met Omi's eyes, somewhat comfortable with the boy even after their brief acquaintance. "I am the head of the largest corporation on Earth and the colonies. I inherited it from my father when he was killed by OZ during the war.

"My father left me a file after his...death. In it were your names and a word. Weiß."

They believed him now. He could see it in their eyes as the suspicion dissolved into disbelief. Even Omi was shocked by his admission. He pointed to each of them in turn. "Abyssinian. Bombay. Balinese.

"Winner Enterprises paid for your missions, supported Takatori in his quest to stop his brother Reiji." He paused, steeling himself for any response to what he had to say next. "I am Kritiker."

======

Duo lounged carefully, trying not to let his boredom get the best of him. Quatre had been gone for a good fifteen minutes and the American hoped that it meant that the boys had decided to listen first and kill later.

He shifted his feet again, trying to ease the dull ache that had begun. He caught the movement of a dark haired youth out of the corner of his violet eye, smiling at the commendable attempt to not be noticed. The boy was walking slowly, strolling up the block. Any other person on the street would never have seen anything, but the boy carried himself like he was an assassin.

Takes a killer to know one.

He wore a heavy leather jacket, and the pockets bulged just slightly with well concealed weapons. Duo had read all the profiles and knew everything this particular boy was capable of, from his soccer experience to his specialty with the clawed bugnuks. A picture of the weapon was enough to make him shudder.

_He's good_. Duo smirked as he stood, making a show of straightening his shirt. The boy stopped, watching openly now. _But I'm better._

He took off running, his long strides eating up pavement. He heard his pursuer swear and take off behind him, still a good fifteen feet away. He risked a glance, almost surprised to see the boy keeping easy pace with him. His lead was shrinking inch by inch.

Duo put on a burst of speed as he sprinted the length of the Koneko and two buildings past. Now his hard work researching the area would be paying off. _Let's see how you handle surprises, Hidaka._

-----

Ken cursed as he took off after the stranger, glad that there were few pedestrians to interfere with the chase. It wasn't hard to keep track of the one person at a dead run, but the boy knew how to keep people between himself and his pursuer. He kept up easily, but felt that he was being led somewhere, and that this boy was more dangerous than he or the others had assumed.

He was angry that he been chosen to do the scout work anyway. They had been watching the two strange boys since their arrival, choosing Siberian to keep an eye on the long haired boy after Youji invited the blond one inside.

Ken sucked at sneaking. He was an up front kind of assassin. Trying to remain hidden wasn't something he was good at.

The boy veered sharply into the next alley, a flash of braid Ken's only clue to where he had gone. Precious moments later, Ken made the corner with trained grace, but came to an undignified stop when he realized that his prey had simply vanished.

-----

Duo bit back a laugh as he watched Ken's face go through a range of emotions, from shock to rage, finally settling on something like "the others are going to kill me" kind of despair. The American was sure that look had been on his face more than once, usually when he found himself trapped by OZ forces and unable to self destruct.

Still, it felt like cheating to have the chase end so soon. Hidaka couldn't have known that Duo had set up a rope and winch earlier that day for an easy escape. The God of Death wasn't taking chances of getting caught by four trained assassins on any day of the week.

He leaned over the side of the building. braid falling over his shoulder. "Oi, you down there!"

He wasn't sure if the boy even understood English, but he knew his voice would get his attention. With a casual toss, he threw the black rope down to the surprised boy, smiling as he tensed with suspicion. Duo stepped back and crossed his arms, waiting patiently.

-----

"Oi, you down there!"

Ken looked up in complete shock, dumbfounded as to how the boy could have possibly gotten to the roof so quickly.

_Kami, he's good._

Another tense moment and a rope came sailing down the side of the building, landing right in front of Ken. He tensed as he realized that he was expected to join his one time prey on the roof, and quite possibly fall into a trap.

_Baka, Ken! Why me?_

With practiced ease, he pulled his bugnuks from his pockets, slipping the familiar gloves on before gripping the rope. If he was going to run head first into a trap, then he may as well go armed.

It was an easy climb to the roof, though Ken was beginning to think that the boy must have used some kind of machinery to disappear so quickly. He wasted no time hauling himself over the lip of the roof, rolling to a defensive position.

The other boy was a good distance away, and still smiling as he glanced at Ken's gloves. His look proved that he knew exactly who Ken was and what those gloves were intended to do.

Ken stood slowly, steel claws ready to spring should the other boy prove more than just an annoyance.

"Hidaka Ken desu ka?"

Ken started at the flawed Japanese. It took another strange moment for him to realize that the boy knew who he was.

"Hai. Dare wa?"

The braided youth grimaced, his violet eyes turning slightly as he struggled to recall the very basic phrases he had learned from Heero. _Crap, what's the word for English? _"Eigo...Eigo hanashimasu ka?"

_Do you speak English?_ Ken smiled. Very limited Japanese but at least he was making the effort. "Hai. I mean, yes, I'm Ken Hidaka. Who are you?" Ken's own English was heavily accented but more understandable than Duo's attempt at Japanese. It had pleased his parents that he learn English well and it had served him while traveling with J-League.

Duo stepped forward and gripped the startled youth's hand before he could move. Ken hadn't even realized that the braided boy had been inching forward the entire time he struggled with the Japanese. "Duo Maxwell, Shinigami and Gundam pilot extraordinaire. Pleased to meet you."

"Shinigami?" _What a morbid idea to name yourself the God of Death..._

Duo didn't let go of the hand, trusting the boy not to bury the razor blades hidden in his gloves somewhere in his abdomen. "Long, sad story, be glad to share it with you sometime. You're Ken, codename Siberian."

_Definitely more here than meets the eye._

Ken snatched his hand back, but did not move to attack. Instead he watched the boy in wonder as he gave a run down of the events that had led him and his friend to the front door of the Koneko. He counted less than three breaths for the entire story.

"So that blonde guy you let in is actually Kritiker. I'm kinda surprised myself, since he's so quiet, though don't let your guard down. He's just as dangerous as yourself."

Another thought struck Ken as he remained fascinated by the endless stream of conversation from the boy. Whatever the braided youth might be, Gundam pilot or assassin, he was incredibly cute.

The thought brought a quick blush to Ken's cheeks. _Baka. You're thinking of how cute he looks when not five minutes ago you were ready to kill him..._

"Maxwell-san, please. Could you stop for a moment? All this is very surprising to me."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Call me Duo."

Ken smiled at the boy's friendliness. He reminded Ken slightly of Omi, though the young assassin's happiness seemed more genuine. This genki exterior seemed aimed to disarm and hide than anything else, but Ken sensed genuine warmth behind the words.

"Call me, Ken."

======

Quatre felt numb as he waited for the boys before him to speak. Youji continued to draw small puffs from his cigarette, the smoke catching the sunlight from the only window. His look was inscrutable as he gazed at his partners. Omi was the first to speak.

"Why are you here, Quatre? I mean, Kritiker is not usually this forward when dealing with us."

The Arabian smiled tensely. "I read about Persia's dealings with you. I am not Shuuichi. Nor my father for that matter."

He leaned back against the wall, arms wrapped about his slight frame. "As a Gundam pilot, I lived in dangerous secrecy. To have my name come to light would destroy everything my father worked for. Heero and Duo took the spotlight, though the rest of us were an wanted as they." He sighed. "I do not deal in shadows. For what I am asking you, I would not send another to ask."

He caught Aya's gaze, feeling the first twinges of the deep sadness that abided there. "All of you were cheated, conned, blackmailed...whatever, into joining and staying with Weiß. Whatever revenge you sought had been achieved and still you were asked to shed more blood. I...I'm sorry."

Once the apology began, the words seemed to come more and more forcefully. "I'm sorry that you were dragged into this. I'm sorry that you were forced to do what I had hoped would not be required of anyone but the other pilots and I. I'm sorry for the blood on your soul."

More silence. Quatre could no longer meet their quiet eyes and studied the floor, unsure exactly what kind of response he was expecting.

"Doushite?"

Quatre looked up, puzzled at the Japanese. "Wha..."

"Why?" It was Aya's deep voice that cut through Quatre's guilt. "Why do you feel guilt for the responsibilities of others? Why do you cry for our sins?"

Omi nodded vigorously. "We understood what we were getting into. Each of us. We have made our choices."

"What are we if we are not Weiß?"

The blond ex-pilot stood again, his own thoughts echoing Youji's response. _Who are we indeed?_

"Let's call Ken back for the party, shall we?"

======

Ken laughed as Duo impersonated his fellow pilot, a boy named Heero Yuy. Duo's face had become an impassible mask, his eyes losing their vibrancy. Pointing his finger at Ken, he repeated the only Japanese he knew with any certainty. "Omae o korosu."

Siberian was struck by the similarities between the impression and Aya. Heero's trademark phrase was frighteningly similar to Aya's screams of 'shine' as he hunted down Takatori. Could there possibly be two cold hearted bastards in the same solar system?

Ken's smile fell as Aya's voice whispered across the hidden comm in his ear, inviting him to bring the noisy American back to the Koneko.

Duo waited patiently as he caught the unfocused look in Ken's deep grey eyes. He took a moment to pat himself on the back as he thought of all the charm he had put into getting the other boy to trust him in the little time they had had. Either Ken was really gullible or the assassin's life hadn't taken all the innocence out of him.

Either way, Duo knew he had found himself a genuine friend in the ex-soccer player, a soul who understood the secrets that had to be kept...and the questions that should never be asked.

Ken stood, shaking his head. "The others are ready to meet you. Quatre has explained things to them."

As he turned to leave, Duo whistled. "Nice ass, Hidaka."

The assassin blushed an interesting shade of red at the open remark. Duo winked and put a casual arm about Ken's neck. He struggled to cover his body's natural reaction to the blatant words. "Wha..." he stammered, and could only turn redder as he became incredibly aware of the other boy's sudden proximity. If Duo noticed the effect he was having on the assassin, he wasn't letting on.

He wasn't letting go either.

"Hey, I only call 'em like I see 'em."

Ken slipped from Duo's arm with a nervous laugh. "You're as bad as Youji."

Duo raised an eyebrow as Ken lowered himself off the roof. "Youji?"

Ken laughed. "Just wait. Trust me, you two will get along just fine."

::owari ni:: 


	3. Interudo I: White

White War

Interudo I: White

§*§*§*§*§

The man bit back a cry of pain as his bloodied shoulder grazed the wall, his body stumbling with exhaustion. He looked at the glistening evidence on the brick with growing despair, sick with the knowledge that he hadn't the strength to hide his trail from those who were following.

He wasn't even sure how long he had been moving. Time had no meaning anymore...there was only the sensations that came between fixes. Those periods were tortuous; feeling returned and the man mourned what had happened and what was lost beneath the stupor. It was during one of the periods of feeling that he suffered sudden clarity.

He was going to die here.

_::Wanna get high?::_

The voice had been repeating the same phrase for days, each time bringing the much sought relief of the dulling of his pain. It was the only thing he had heard in his time between the darkness and the light.

The words drove him on, trying desparately to ignore the growing hunger that had begun to gnaw at his veins. His body cried in agony for the bliss his mind had been submerged in for only Kami knew how long. Every worry that had ever plagued him melted into pure white pleasure, a nothingness that was as addictive as it was deadly.

Suddenly his body gave out on him, sending him head first into the smooth concrete floor. Agony erupted across his forehead and he was blinded as blood began streaming into his eyes. His limbs were numb with terrible want, refusing to follow the logical brain that insisted that they needed to get out of here if he hoped to live.

His heart froze as he heard the soft whisper of shoes on the floor behind him. He couldn't raise his head and just lay quietly, praying that his pursuers would put him out of his misery quickly.

"Whatever should we do with you, Preventer?"

The voice was cool and dead, just like the eyes of the person who owned it. The man felt tears mixing with the blood in his eyes and he knew his end would not come easy...nor quickly.

A hand began petting his head almost lovingly. "A lesson needs to be learned, Preventer. A harsh lesson."

The Preventer shuddered and moaned as he felt the other kneeling next to him. Sudden craving gave strength to his numbed lips. "Please..."

He nearly smiled as he felt the sharp pinch of the needle breaking the skin of his arm, one of such many tracks along the skin. He wasn't even sure if he had been begging for more of his addiction or his death. Perhaps he had known that both would come within one small syringe.

The other laughed softly as he stood, leaving the Preventer in his drugged state. And his death came in a bright haze of white.

::owari interudo:: 


	4. San: Choices

White War

San: Choices  


§*§*§*§*§

Wufei Chang's glower deepened as he read the report that Sally had placed on his desk with careful hands. Another agent had turned up dead, his body washed up on a river bank. All evidence had been wiped clean by days in the swift water, corpse bloated and deformed. His blood tests came back positive for the very substance he had been investigating: White. So much of the drug was in the body, that the coroner found it in every tissue, from skin to hair. The agent had been in the field for months and must have been receiving regular doses for it to have become a part of his very body.

Preventers at the scene were able to determine that he was long dead before he had been dumped in the river. The man had finally died as the small veins in his lungs ruptured, drowning him in his own blood.

By overdosing the agent, whoever was in charge of the operation was sending a message to the Preventers.

The Chinese agent sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was the third death, the third family left without a father in the past month. Top Preventer agents, found out and killed, all while under deep cover. Each one a White junkie, a puppet to be used against Chang and his attempts to cut the substance off at the source.

The agents were only a small part of the death toll. No less than fifteen confirmed deaths from White, all boys no older than he was when he first joined the war. It had taken months to draw all the names together, a long list of unknowns with indeterminate deaths. The first few were from public schools, unrelated incidents that went unnocticed.

Already Wufei had resolved himself. No more agents would die. Lady Une was looking worn from trying to comfort torn families. She would probably kill him if another agent was sent into the field.

There were no more choices left.

He was more skilled than anyone in the entire Preventer force for this kind of work. Deep cover. Search and destroy. What he trained for. He should have done it himself long ago.

Still, it would be good to have backup. And the more heads working on the problem, the better. Even he was willing to recognize the foolishness of trying something like this alone.

Wufei knew there was only one thing left to do. The mission was becoming far too important and dangerous to waste anymore time. As much as he hated it, he knew it was his only option before this White war got out of hand.

He touched his intercom. "Miss Gray, please contact Quatre Winner."

======

_Earth has no idea how beautiful it is, _Duo thought as he stood at the large window, hand touching his reflection in the cool glass. The Koneko was in the middle of the sprawl, with buildings to every side. The ex-pilot was looking down over the street, purposely blurring his eyes so that the lamps began to look like orange jewels in the night. Lamps that burned every night, sentinels to keep the darkness away.

Duo had learned that the places you wanted to avoid were always preceded by broken street lamps. There were things in the darkness that were better left there.

Quatre was sleeping on the bed, drained from his confrontation with Weiß. He had barely removed his shoes before collapsing onto the hard mattress, quickly asleep.

He still carried a terrible guilt, and that feeling had not been assuaged after facing the four assassins.

_"They chose to remain as Weiß. They would not...They would not let the burden be mine alone."_

He turned at the sound of rustling cloth, Hidaka Ken joining him at the window. The dark haired assassin had taken it upon himself to watch the strange boy who claimed to be Kritiker and his American companion, inviting them to take up temporary residence in his own apartment. Weiß had refused to let them return to their hotel, Omi protesting that it would be rude and Aya wanting to keep them underfoot should they prove to be more than they appeared.

"Nani...what are you looking at?"

The American boy smiled slightly, tracing slow circles with his fingertips. "Tokyo." His hand stilled. "Earth cities are so much more beautiful than the colonies."

Ken sighed, hand coming up to join Duo's. "This city used to be beautiful to me...but so much darkness..."

Duo smiled brightly, meeting the blue grey eyes of Ken's reflection. "The sun always rises, Ken. Even in space."

Somehow, the words felt out of place with what Ken had imagined Duo to be like. A boy thrust into a war not of his making, beaten, betrayed at every turn by the very planet and people he chose to protect. And losing everything in the end to an ideal of peace that they both knew was barely a facade on the real world.

Still, the words were almost peaceful, and offered a hope that Weiß had lost quickly after joining Kritiker.

"Doushite ka?"

Duo recognized the short phrase, recognizing it as one of Heero's favorite curses when glaring at Duo for something not-so-intelligent that had resulted in someone getting hurt, most usually himself. He pondered whether evading understanding would keep him from lying. He also knew that the question referred to his previous occupation as Gundam pilot and not why he accompanied Quatre to the Koneko.

"Why not?" he quipped lightly, shaking away the guilt that always followed closely upon his memories. The destruction of his Gundam still burned brightly, like afterimage in his mind's eye. It was the beginning of the new lie under which he lived his life.

Ken wasn't satisfied with the strange answer. "There are other, less dangerous occupations for a boy your age."

"Like florist by day, assassin by night?"

Duo regretted the pain that flashed in Ken's eyes as soon as the words passed his lips. He was certainly in no position to judge what anyone else did with their lives. "Gomen, Ken. That was thoughtless and cruel."

"True."

The American caught the ghost of a smile on Ken's lips. _He's so...lost. And so cute._

Biting his cheek to keep from smiling, Duo studied the assassin's reflection in the glass. Blue grey eyes gazed forlornly over the cityscape, lost beneath a wealth of chocolate brown hair. He was wearing comfortable clothing, old jeans and a tee, but he still managed to exude sexiness...in a hometown, take-home-to-mom kind of way.

_If I had a mom, that is. _The ex-pilot felt that he had to make up for his callous remark. "I was a street rat. Lowest of the low on L2. Thief extraordinaire. One time resident of Maxwell's Church."

Ken started at the name. "You lived in Maxwell's Church?" He became thoughtful as he tried to drag up memories from his childhood. "I remember that incident. Everyone was thought to be killed."

"They were."

The phrase was so quiet that Ken nearly missed it. Beside him, Duo's eyes were downcast, lost in the sweep of chestnut bangs. "I survived. Just like I survived the plague. Like I survived that fucking war. " Duo hadn't expected Ken to have heard of something that had been passed off as _trivial_ in the eyes of the colony. Too bad, so sad...

Ken felt a wash of sorrow. His own past was tortured enough, with betrayal marring his soul. _Sister...Kase... _Though it had happened years before, while he was living in a church orphanage himself, he wished that he had been able to do something about the tragedy of L2, a naive child's wish.

His mouth opened to whisper his sympathy when something began playing the Turkish March in the vicinity of Duo's hip. Duo smiled sheepishly at Ken's disbelieving look and drew out Quatre's personal cell.

"Yo, Quatre's in the sack and Duo's busy dazzling assassin's with tales of his sexual prowess, leave a message after the groan." Duo let out a very erotic moan, knowing the person on the other end was slowly becoming livid at his sophomoric humor. God, he loved caller ID.

"You are an ass, Maxwell."

Duo smiled. "Love you too, Wufei. So how's my fave Preventer pee-on doing today?"

Ken watched the entire exchange, smiling at the familiarity with which Duo interacted with the boy on the other end of the line. He recognized the same kind of camaraderie that he shared with his own team; you were friends not because you had a lot in common...you understood their pain better than anything.

Duo's humor evaporated instantly as he listened intently to what the Preventer had to say. His face drew into an angry frown, then the solid mask of a soldier accepting a mission. Ken watched with fascination at the play of emotions on the other boy's face until Duo spared a glance at him. Ken turned quickly, studiously trying to ignore the entire conversation, finding the scenery suddenly more interesting than he had in years.

"You got it, Wu-man. We'll be at Preventer Central in the a.m. Quatre's got a surprise to bring along that I think will help us. Ja." The cellphone closed with a snap and Duo favored Ken with a rakish smile.

"How would you and Weiß like to take a little trip?"

::owari san:: 


	5. Interudo II: Flying

White War  
Interudo II: Flying

§§§§§

Ken gripped the arms of his chair tightly, hoping that he could somehow stop the shaking of the plane just by willing it. His eyes were closed and his body hunched into the plush cushions. It was a slight vibration really, hardly even worthy of being called turbulence, but Ken held onto his irrational fears. He had been on small commercial jets while with the J-League, flying to exhibition matches. He hadn't liked flying then either.

The Winners' private jet was the finest money could buy, with a spacious and comfortable interior that catered to the needs of the Enterprise's executives. It was also very fast, cutting more than half a day out of the trip it would take to reach Preventer Headquarter's in North America. But for all the comfort and speed, they still couldn't guarantee that they wouldn't fall from the sky in a ball of flaming fuel...

"Ne, Ken-kun..." It was the ever polite Quatre who touched one tensed hand with inquisitive fingers. The Arabian's other hand rested on his own chest, and his eyes seemed pained. "Do you need something? Youji-kun is trying to empty the liquor cabinet, but there are also medicinals to help with your anxiety..."

Drugs. He hadn't taken them on purpose, but drugs were the reason he was in this mess. Nothing stronger than aspirin went down his throat voluntarily; he threw away the narcotics given by Kritiker doctors as soon as he was out of their sight. "No, thank you, Quatre." With conscious effort, he loosened his hands, soothed by the other boy's concern. He closed his eyes and focused his breathing as he had seen Aya do a thousand times and found himself relaxing almost immediately. Maybe there was something to that meditating thing after all...

He was suddenly aware of something very close to his nose. He opened his eyes, swallowing an undignified yelp. "Duo!" His heart leapt into his throat and he choked back the urge to raise his hands...the hands that were now bare of the weapons carefully stored in the luggage compartment of Quatre's jet.

The American's nose was nearly touching his own, and a foolish grin was plastered on his face. "Sorry, buddy, too good to pass up."

Unlike Quatre's careful speech, Ken found himself hard put to follow the American's words. Still, he caught the humor behind them and shook his head. "You're just like Youji."

"I know," Duo replied, throwing himself into the seat next to the brown haired assassin. "He dared me to do it. Wanted to see if you would kill me."

There was another edge to those words, a seriousness masked beneath the gallows humor. Ken didn't know what to think. He had never had a friend who knew about his past...well, the Kritiker observed part of his past, including why he was brought to Weiß. He felt exposed...and relieved.

"I thought about it." Ken laughed nervously at the sudden tension. "Sorry, Duo. I'm...I'm just not good with flying."

The American smiled wickedly, turning to wink at his newfound friend. "Flying isn't the bad part, Ken." He leaned in conspirationally and Ken finally caught the faint whiff of alcohol on his breath. Playing with Youji then. "It's the sudden stop at the end that kills ya."

Ken found himself laughing at the joke, a nervously loud laugh that caused Omi and Aya to look back in concern. Duo paid it no mind and patted Ken's hand like he was a child, suddenly serious. "And don't tell Youji, but I can drink him under the table."

The American was gone before Ken could comment, returning to the front of the plane where the lanky Youji was standing none too steadily, looking for his drinking partner.

There was a pleasant chime and Ken exhaled in relief as the 'fasten seat belts' sign was illuminated. He hadn't taken his off the entire flight and would be more than happy to land. A sudden vision of himself kissing the ground brought a wry smile to his face.

"Please be seated," the captain stated overhead. "We will reach New Terminal York in 10 minutes."

His first time in North America...in the United States. He felt a pang of sadness as he realized there was no time to enjoy the scenery. A car was waiting on the tarmac to take them directly to Wufei Chang's offices. And from there...back into danger.

::owari interudo::

::AN:: gods this has been a bee-ah-ch to write. i really apologize for another short interlude but i'm trying to get the spark back...:: 


	6. Yon: Necessity

White War

Yon:Necessity

§§§§§

"White? What are they, a punk band?"

Quatre smiled at Wufei's disbelief. he had already discussed what he was going to reveal to the Preventer with Omi, who had smoothed things over with a not entirely surprised Manx and Birman at Kritiker. The young Japanese agreed wholeheartedly, quickly overriding and protests from what remained of the previous Kritiker infrastructure.

The Arabian slipped the dossier across the polished walnut desk. Omi had attended with him, looking far too old in his navy suit as he awaited Wufei's reactions. The other teams were relaxing in the employees lounge, Duo and Ken well on their way to earning a beating from either Heero or Aya.

"My father's secrets have come to light," Quatre replied, watching the play of emotions as Wufei glanced through the bare essentials of Kritiker: Weiß, Crashers, and the other groups that Weiß knew existed but had never met. His ebony eyes finally settled on the pictures of Omi and his companions, reading over their grisly history.

Omi leaned forward, seeing Wufei difficulty in accepting Quatre's story. "We have been a team longer than any other Kritiker team, and have a success rate that is unparalleled. Quatre offered us our freedom, but knowing that there was good we could still do..."

Wufei slumped back into his chair. "I expect these kind of surprises from Maxwell, Quatre. I think you've just taken ten years off my life."

The Arabian pressed on. "I brought you help, Wufei. We have been given the gift of an expertly trained team, with a record to rival our own. Together, we could solve this case for you."

Quatre's passionate words could move a tree to tears if needed, and they worked on the skeptic Wufei's misgivings. Looking over steepled fingers, he nodded.

"Show me Weiß."

- - - - -

"Test...test...Tess of the D'ubervilles..."

A groan answered Duo's pun, the unfortunate Wufei on the receiving end at Preventer HQ. "You can't have come up with that on your own."

The American smiled broadly, knowing his backup couldn't see. "I _can_ read, Wu-man...Sister Helen wouldn't have it any other way."

"Stop annoying him, Duo," came Heero's quick admonition. Efficient fingers tucked away the last of the hidden microphones on the American's disguise. No one would know the expensive spyware from a button or pin, or even the digital imaging glasses the American pilot had adopted with his usual flare. Nearly rimless, they made him look intelligent, a notion that his quick mouth tended to disabuse.

The uniform itself wouldn't pass muster on any fashion stage in the world, being a simple suit and tie affair. Duo was used to the sameness of private schools, where the badges of station came from which way your nose pointed. Ken, however, looked positively uncomfortable.

The assassin was currently muttering something about a 'fucking short straw' as his lanky companion buttoned the topmost button and tightened the striped tie about his neck. From the smirk on his face, Youji was enjoying Ken's plight immensely.

"Very suave, Ken-kun. You look like you're about 12."

"Shut up, Youji. Maybe if I smoked like a freight train, I could look 40 too."

If anything, the smirk widened. "Too straight and narrow. Keeps you young and innocent." With a lewd wink and smack in a very private area, Youji moved back to his place in the driver's seat of their van and they began the short dive to their drop off point. Ken stiffened, hands indicating that he very much wished to have his weapons. Pleading with Quatre and Omi hadn't lifted the stricture and so he'd settled for a couple of well concealed knives and other gadgetry.

"Audio check," buzzed in his ear, from a speaker smaller than a normal hearing aid and completely undetectable. Their equipment certainly hadn't suffered from having the richest man in the known world and colonies financing their mission. Quatre had upped Kritiker's budget when he stepped into the offices in Japan, and again at Preventers headquarters. Winner's heir had no problem putting the money where it was needed.

Duo had quipped that Quatre had been looking for something to do with it anyway, as his family had more than they knew what to do with, and made more everyday. The Winner family had a hand in just about everything.

"Hida...Umm, Toshiki Ken, audio check. I hear you, Omi." Code names had been a matter of course with deep cover, but he'd been allowed to keep his first name since it wouldn't stick him out in a crowd or be hard to remember to answer to. Youji had made some comment about his short attention span that had earned the blonde a bloody nose from the already frazzled Ken.

Duo, on the other hand, was a national hero, with his name written in no few new textbooks. They'd fought over the fact that his face had been plastered all over every media station since the final destruction of the Gundams, but Duo had a quick answer for that as well. "C'mon. No one would believe that a Gundam pilot would attend a mere private school!"

They hadn't wanted to send just Weiß, since the team was primarily go in and kill, but Quatre's diplomacy and Omi's innate leadership had paired up the assassins and pilots. They really had pulled straws to see who would go, Duo pulling the short straw duty, Ken going along by default of having partnered with him.

"Emery Jonson, audio check. Quatre, are you there?"

"Check, Duo. Reading audio, visual check. Button cameras, check. Feedback imaging. Are you getting this?"

Duo's eyes shifted focus for a moment as he saw the faint readout scrolling across one lens of his glasses. Ken could barely detect the words from his side. "Clear. Would you like me to repeat what you just wrote to Heero, Wufei?"

"He sent it to me too, Duo," was the droll reply from the passenger seat. "Emery is a very pompous name."

Duo took a seat on the side bench, giving Heero's back a not so nice finger. He gathered his already prepared satchel, studying the prepared papers on top. Ken took a nervous seat next to him, smiling as he was handed his own materials. The American leaned over to Ken's ear. "There's a one shot in the bottom of your bag...just in case."

Ken nodded tersely, glad that his new friend felt just as vulnerable as he did. Duo hadn't fought when Quatre had ordered no offensive weapons, but had some well concealed blades too. The picture painted by Wufei's description of the current situation wasn't one that inspired confidence. Preventer agents had been found out and killed, with no attempts to hide the bodies.

Duo frowned as he read his prepared history, already committing much of it to memory. "Wufei, this school information is a bit sketchy. Haven't you got anything better than 'private school, little known'?"

The reply was delayed by the distance between them and their station at Preventers. "Students move in and out of there constantly. It's really a place for rich parents to dump their kids when they're out of the country and such." Papers were shuffled. "The school itself is pretty normal and legit. It's the kids who are shady."

"The kids aren't all right," Duo muttered, and kept reading. Ken struggled to concentrate on his own papers, getting his name, age and address without having to look twice. His parents were software developers from Kyoto or was is Nagasaki? He groaned.

"Don't worry, Ken. They won't care about your parents the first day. Plus, the hackers will have read your folder ten times by lunch."

"Duo, stop trying to make me feel better."

Both boys fell into a busy silence that continued until Youji pulled the van into a parking area within walking distance of the school. Ken jumped out of the black van, glad to finally be moving. Duo was a little more composed, satchel over one shoulder, and uniform impeccable. Ken felt rumpled, but didn't bother to fix it. He knew he'd lose the tie before the end of the school day anyway, maybe down a deep, dark manhole where no one would be able to return it.

Youji came around to check them, licking his fingers and wiping away an imaginary smudge on Ken's cheek.

"Oh, for the love of God, Youji!" Ken wiped the saliva away with his sleeve and gave Youji a quick kick to his shin. Knowing that the taller boy would be limping back to Preventers made him feel better.

Duo was the instigator with Heero, giving the stoic boy a rather sloppy kiss on the cheek, which was ignored. "Bye, Mom! See you later!" Duo gave a frustrated scowl at the lack of response and stepped away.

Youji did limp back to the van, though he tried hard to hide it. He and Heero pulled away, Ken watching his last chance to get the hell out of Dodge disappear up the street into the early morning sun.

The scowl had disappeared from Duo's face, replaced by a smile that was almost wolfish. "Next time, I'll just lick him. And maybe not on the cheek."

Ken felt his face redden, but took his place beside the American as he set a confident stride towards the school. They had only a few blocks to go, arriving after classes had started so they wouldn't have to deal with stupidly curious onlookers. Duo carried on his own conversation, keeping it strictly to just about nothing, remarking several times on the color of the sky. His voice died out, though, as the school came into view.

The school was an imposing monstrosity of solid grey stone and dark ivy, giving the foreboding impression of a prison. The entire structure was surrounded by a seven foot wall with only one gate, and an obese security guard who waved them on with only a precursory inspection of their carefully prepared ID's. Duo was disappointed, since he'd faked the ID's himself and nursed his professional pride all the way to the main door.

They were greeted by a matronly woman with steel grey hair. She wore an olive uniform that was starched and pressed. The school was not a military one, but no one had seen fit to tell her that.

"I am to see you to your rooms in the Richland dorms. You will then meet with the Headmaster and attend afternoon classes. A peer will be assigned to be your guide." She gave a perfectly executed turn and clicked off down the marble hall in her highly polished black leather boots.

Duo followed, mischievous smile about his lips. "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."

Somehow, Ken didn't find it very funny. The solid oak door shut behind him with an iron clang, sealing him and his partner off from the rest of the world...and help. 


End file.
